I have used a variety of camping stoves, from the old suitcase-style Coleman gasoline stoves to the most modern butane burners. But for several years I have been mostly using alcohol stoves (sometimes called spirit stoves) for backpacking. Let’s talk about what’s great about them, and what isn’t.

Things I like about alcohol stoves

They’re inexpensive. As of the publishing date, you can purchase a spirit stove for under $20. Some are under fifteen. And if that isn’t cheap enough for you…

(Left) Commercially-made stove by Esbit, with transport cap and flame snuffer. (Right) Homemade pop can stove with flame snuffer.

You can make them yourself. The internet is awash in plans and instructions for alcohol stoves. Most of them use discarded cans of some sort and simple hand tools, so just about anyone can make them. Stovemaking has developed into a sub-hobby of its own.

They’re light. My entire stove weighs 0.6 ounces. Adding in the pot support and windscreen brings the total to 2.5 ounces. The fuel container is light, too. Mine weighs one ounce. By contrast, an 8-ounce net weight canister of butane weighs a pound – the empty can weighs as much as the fuel it held.

The pot support (left) and windscreen, folded and rolled, respectively, and ready to travel.
The stove unrolled, unfolded, and ready to cook.

The fuel is easy to find. Alcohol stoves run on, duh, alcohol. They work best with pure ethanol, in the form of denatured alcohol (cheap, easy to find at hardware stores) or pure grain alcohol like Everclear (expensive due to taxes). But the stove will also work with 90% rubbing alcohol or HEET gas line antifreeze.

The fuel is renewable. Ethanol is brewed from grain. While there’s certainly fossil fuels involved in its production and transportation to the consumer, the fuel itself isn’t derived from dinosaur squeezings.

Alcohol is easy to handle. The fuel isn’t pressurized, so the container can be really light. I use a discarded juice bottle or a mini-size Coke bottle. Either one weighs an ounce, and carries about a week’s worth of fuel. If you spill any, it dries quickly with no stain and no lingering smell.

This used to hold grape juice. Now it’s alcohol. There’s a certain symmetry there…

Spirit stoves are quiet. This might be what I like the best about alcohol stoves. Gasoline and butane stoves are surprisingly noisy. And out in the wilderness the sound seems more disturbing, somehow, than it would in a campground. Though, even there, I came for the sounds of nature, not the roar of my stove’s burner. Alcohol stoves make almost no noise whatsoever. Mine makes noise for about 30 seconds until it reaches a stable temperature, and again for about 30 seconds as it runs out of fuel, but is utterly silent otherwise.

Things I don’t like about alcohol stoves

Of course, nothing is ever perfect, and so there are things I don’t like about alcohol stoves too.

This stove is lit. You can see the yellow tips of the flame, but can you see the blue flames closer to the burner?

The flame is hard to see. I took the above picture at night. You’ll note the flame is pretty tough to see. In daylight it’s even harder. Because of this you have to be keenly aware of safety around an alcohol stove. One trick to make the flame more visible is to add a pinch of salt to your fuel container. The sodium in the salt makes the flame yellow.

Some stove designs could possibly tip over and spill burning fuel. Not all stove designs have this problem, but some very common designs definitely do.

They’re (relatively) tricky to extinguish. You can shut off gasoline and butane stoves by a twist of a knob, but alcohol stoves require a snuffer, and enough dexterity to apply it. This, coupled with the above issues, has lead to…

Alcohol stoves are banned in some places. The state of California, and several regulatory agencies in other states, have banned alcohol stoves. In most places, they’re banned during periods of high fire danger, just as campfires are. So depending on where and when you hike, alcohol stoves may not be an option.

They’re slow. Most alcohol stoves put out less heat than other types of stoves, so they take longer to heat up your food. Just how much depends on many factors, but it’s usually enough to notice. Whether that seems “leisurely” or “&^%$#@ slow” may depend on your outlook as much as a stopwatch.

The wind can play havoc with an alcohol stove. A good windscreen is critical to getting decent performance, and even with one, finding a sheltered spot to set your stove is important.

Simmering is a joke. I have yet to see an alcohol stove design that truly simmers well. If all you’re doing is heating water for hot drinks and instant dinners that’s fine. But you will have a hard time frying up a fresh trout on an alcohol stove.

What I use

When I’m backpacking, I tend to do very simple cooking. Hot water is about as far as it goes. At most I might have to boil some noodles for a few minutes. I value quiet more than I value speed. And the satisfaction of heating my dinner on a stove I made myself warms me nearly as much as the food. I’ve learned to live with the hazards and quirks of alcohol stoves, and unless regulations force me to some other solution, you’ll always find an alcohol stove in my pack.